


Don't Leave A Mark If It's Only Gonna Fade

by tori1116



Category: DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Titans (Comics), Titans Hunt (Comics)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically Canon Only With Soulmate Marks, Emotional Porn, Fix-It, M/M, Miscommunication, Past Character Death, Post-Break Up, Rebirth Referenced, Self-Doubt, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-13 17:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11190033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tori1116/pseuds/tori1116
Summary: Roy had his mark since he was a kid, but he decided just get rid of it, because a mark didn't mean nothing and it was pointless.Years later he partnered up with Jason, and then Jason left, and it was fine, because it was bound to happen.Not that Jason appeared to be his soulmate anyway, since the guy didn't have a mark.Or, the soulmate mark fic no one has ever asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, actually, I'm just kind of thinking about what would Roy (who has abandonment issues) do with his soulmate mark. And I also wanted to make some sense out of the whole break up thing and anything afterward.  
> And I wanted to write porn, though I don't think anything is really explicit.
> 
> Leave some comment and kudos if you enjoy it!

He didn’t seem a bit difference, still with the same outfit and all.

The brown leather jacket that Roy had to borrow in more than a few occasion because he hadn’t bothered to read the weather news that had forecasted that there would be a sudden drop in temperature at night before he ran out, or didn’t catch the memo of how the bad guys they’re after had packed themselves some cryogenic weapons.

“ _It’s all on you, Roy. You don’t choose fashion before practical without paying a price,_ ” the guy had replied heartlessly after he had mourned for his soon-to-be-freeze-off ass.

Though the remark was true, it didn’t seem much coming from the guy. “ _Are you seriously telling me that you’ve been wearing your very **cool** yet very **warm** jacket, even during summer, it’s not for the sake of looking like a sexy badass but just because you want to improve your heat endurance?_ ” he had countered in a mock curious tone. And the guy had snorted.

 “ _No,_ ” he had replied offhandedly, “ _I’m just cold on the inside._ ” Then he had pulled off his jacket and throwing it to Roy only a while later.

And the black body armor, he remembered how the damn thing had almost fried his fingers the first time he had tried to rip it off from its owner.

The helmet, that he had made some adjustment for it from time to time. “ _Break any part of it and the same result goes to you,_ ” the guy had warned after he’d asked if he could take a look at the mechanism.

Not a damn thing seemed to be changed these days; hell, the guy even accompanied himself with a redhead and an alien. He couldn’t help but see it this way and the irony he found almost made him puff out a laugh.

Did he think of them as his team, his friends? Roy didn’t actually have to think about this, he knew he did; he always did, even though he never liked to admit it.

Back in the short period of time when he had still cared to do some wondering, sometimes Roy had wondered, would it make himself feel better if the guy didn’t, if any of that just never meant shit to the guy, if he had just simply never cared, and all of that was just no one but the guy’s problem.

It’d been almost a year since they had parted ways, and Roy had tried to recall anything as little as possible. But then, there he was, and all the memories were suddenly flooding back in his head like they had never been wiped out.

“Roy?” A slightly baffled voice raised from his side, there’re a pair of beautiful blue eyes looking at him in concern.

“Are you okay?”

He retrieved his gaze and lifted his lips into a small smirk.

“Super,” he replied to Donna.

Dick was out there, talking with the guy once the whole H.I.V.E incident was over; unlike him, who didn’t attempt to make any contact, both verbally and physically, when the guy and his new friends had run into the fight by accident.

They didn’t made eyes contact with each other apart from the very first glance, the guy had seemed as surprised as Roy at first, before he had turned his eyes away.

Realized that someone was watching him, Roy tossed his head. Lilith was standing next to Garth, staring at him with eyes glinted in sadness.

Damn he need a drink, he thought to himself and avoiding the psychic’s gaze which was definitely knowing too much.

“Think you guys could handle the clean up by yourself?” he said to Donna, with a pitiful look on his face, “I’m exhausted, think I’d just split.”

Donna was about to reply, but he interrupted her, “Okay, see you guys later,” then headed back to the tower with a vague itch in his right arm.

 

***

 

“Are you sure?” the guy had stopped in the halfway and asked.

“Sure,” he replied easily.

The guy seemed a bit reluctant; it wasn’t much of a surprise that the guy would feel disapprove of his choice, seeing how the mark on the guy’s neck had been highlighted proudly by a border of ink.

Not all the people had it, but those who had, didn’t usually make that kind of decision.

“Pattern looks stupid,” he told the guy nonchalantly, “Rather picked myself something cooler.”

“Yours seems fine to me,” the guy grumbled, but did started the tattoo gun and went on with his job.

After awhile later, he held up the mirror that the guy had passed to him. The skull on his bicep looked great, and it covered the mark perfectly.

The tattooist crossed his arm, looking at him in a way that was clearly suggested he was thinking that he was an idiot.

But who the hell care what the guy thought. What’s the use of a soulmate mark if everyone around you just going to leave you anyway.

“Thanks dude,” he smiled and said, paid the guy and walked out of the shop with a new ink.

 

***

 

He didn’t buy himself some liquor, of course; as long as he still had some people to care about, he wasn’t going to fall off the wagon.

What he ended up getting though, it wasn’t anything better.

Without a nice heads-up, the kiss came; fast and brutal, almost a bit desperate, almost angry.

Before his brain could catch up with what the hell was going on, he had already urged back, pressed his own mouth at the chapped lips, facing the attack like a man without fear but only a truckload of stupidity.

The force was harsh, probably because Jason was really annoyed at this point, whatever his problem was. Roy let himself be drag into his rhythm for a moment, hold his breath and sank into the sensation of how his lips got suckled and chewed and bruised, then he pulled back a little, dodged the biting teeth that were chasing him, surged forward again in the next coming second and return the favor on his own term.

A hand crept up beneath his chin while he was gnawing those lips; as the moment that his neck was caught and yanked forward, Roy grunted into that hot, wet mouth, lifted up his own hand and gripped hard at the wrist in response.

He wasn’t sure was he going to yanked the hand away or what, it kind of irritated, the somewhat possessiveness of the gesture, keeping him where he wanted him.

Roy wanted to get himself free from it, but it’s also felt good. The urges, the heat, the illusion from the old time when they were still partners, it was awoken just as easily as a snap of a finger. It all came back and it felt good, and shit did he like those things that felt poisonously good.

The hand seemed unmovable, holding strong as though he refused to let go, which was kind of a joke, actually. Before Roy could have a second to laugh about it, Jason tilted his head and opened his mouth, pushed effortlessly with his tongue, and Roy just kind of forget whether he should break the hold of his neck or not, hand staying exactly where it were, clasped tightly onto Jason’s wrist, mouth opened wide without a fragment of thought.

The remaining taste of cigarette felt like it should be enough to give him cancer, he’s mindlessly wondering did the guy has tasted something similar while his tongue bustled inside his mouth, something toxin, perhaps, rotten and cursed.

He hadn’t expected Jason would’ve stayed after the fight was over. According to what he had said to Dick after he had showed up, the guy was only here to chase a lead, bumped into the big fight in the street and decided to join.

Roy had thought he would go back to whatever his team and he had been doing as soon as possible, but instead he was here. When someone had knocked at his unlocked door, Roy had thought that was one of his friends, that’s why he had dragged out a “come on in, door’s open”.

Someone had walked inside his quarter and closed the door. He didn’t bother to sit up, still lying on bed with his feet dangled on the edge, left arm underneath his head while his right one spread aside lazily.

He hadn’t gotten rid of the suit, only pulled off his hat and his goggles and laid it on the drawer beside his bed. “Nice new suit, no comment for the hat though.” The unexpected voice had gotten him sit up slowly.

Jason was standing in front of his door, with his hand holding his helmet. The pair of blue eyes hadn’t stayed on Roy’s face more than a second, he studied the room carelessly. Roy sat on the edge of the bed and watched him, back hunched a little, forearms hung on his lap.

“Is there anything I can help you?” he had said politely, “If you’re looking for the reception, it’s in the lobby.”

Without turning his eyes on Roy, Jason replied in a plain voice, while inspected his room, “Just wanted to check on you. Nasty fight down there, heard you left early, not sure if you’ve gotten hurt.”

Roy had hummed. “Aren’t you sweet,” he had said. If he was angry, he probably would’ve said something such as, _don’t you think it’s a little too late to ask a question like that?_ But he wasn’t angry, not even when the moment the guy had walked away from him, leave him nothing but a _it’s-not-you-it’s-me_ speech.

Not that he had never seen it coming, they’d had enough fun when they were partners. He tried his best to keep it, for as long as he could, sometimes he did wonder would it sustain just a little bit longer if they had never had sex. It’s just kind of feel natural in the moment, when they’d lived together, when there’re just the two of them and all.

Since he had never expected whatever he and the guy had been doing would last, there’s no reason for him to be angry or hurt, or heartbroken. Things hadn’t ended especially good or bad, just kind of a “What? That’s it?” and _that’s it_ it was.

“I’m fine,” seeing how the guy had showed no intention to leave, he had responded casually, “Just a few bruises, nothing I can’t handle. You can go now, sure there’s someone out there that worth your concern.”

The eyes had turned abruptly at him, more intense than Roy had thought, and it somehow glinted with cold fury. “Would you cut it off?” Jason had said, clear and slowly, after stared impassively at him for a moment.

“Cut what off?” Roy had tipped his head curiously, and it appeared to rub Jason the wrong way.

“If you wanna yell at me just do it, don’t give me that passive-aggressive bullshit.” The guy wasn’t spatting or anything, he was actually calm; only the spark of irritation was there, and Roy could easily sense it.

He didn’t understanding why it annoyed the guy so much, wasn’t it better if they could be civil?

“You think I’m gonna yell at you, like I always did with Ollie?” regarding Jason for a moment, Roy had frowned in confusion, “I’m not mad, dude. You’ve made the right call, not that I was ever good for you anyway.”

“What are you on about,” the guy had creased his brows in return, studying him like he was a puzzle, instead of something so plain and simple.

Roy had sighed.

“God, I really need a drink,” he had murmured to himself in a small voice. Since the guy wasn’t considerate enough to leave him alone, he guessed he had no choice but leave his own room, which, really was more than a bit irritating.

He had stood up but a hand grasped his arm as he walked past the guy. “Aren’t you supposed to have quit?” Jason throw a grim glance at him, apparently had caught the words he said.

Not that he was actually going to have a drink, but he didn’t feel like explaining himself. “Please don’t touch me,” dropped his gaze at the hand that held on his arm, he had said with patience, sounded nothing but reasonable, “I really don’t want to get mad.”

But Jason did, somehow he was pissed and he was pressing into Roy all of a sudden.

Somewhere on his right arm was itching, as the moment the chapped lips had bumped into his. Roy fumbled at the waist of the armor until he could find the release switch he had learnt it was there. Jason pulled back a little, freed himself form his suit with Roy’s help, and yanked Roy’s suit off afterward.

They struggled toward the bed, dragging and pushing each other until they’re both toppled down. A hand clasped the side of his hip tightly, while the other one rushing around in his torso, straying at everywhere, just grabbed as much as it could like whatever it take it could’ve just brought home.

The grip on Roy’s hip was strong, though the guy never had played as rough as he was at work, as far as Roy knew, the guy was always a bit territory when he was in bed. It wouldn’t be hard to understand considered how he grew up, with everything he had could’ve been snatched away in any second.

The lips pressed at the corner of his opened mouth, nipping at Roy’s Jaw and traveled down. A simple nudge from Jason’s mouth, and his head was tossed back, exposing his neck for the gnawing teeth.

No doubt there would be a bunch of bruises and marks when this was over, all of it would be hard to ignore and all of it would fade. The thought of it made Roy feel both bitter and desperate, he dug his fingers into those back muscles, picking and scathing at all of those old scars he remembered exactly where they where and how they’re looked like.

None of those scars were made from before he put on the helmet, the guy once had told him. Roy could’ve easily remembered, how he had known from the way Jason had talked about it, and he had thought to himself, that even though every physical mark from Jason’s past had been removed, it was still there, stopping him, nagging in his ear and dragging him down, no matter how he wished it wasn’t.

A moan escaped his throat as the roaming hand strayed through his navel and tugged at his erection. Jason moved swiftly, body pressed him to lay flat. Soon after, the mouth was there; tickling his sensitive skin with warm, unsteady breath, mouthing above its top, before gave Roy a tentative lick.

Roy squeezed his eyes shut as the second Jason took him in, the heat, the wetness, the pressure around his cock made him gasped and shouted.

He pressed the back of his head deep into the bed while his body jerked up toward the tightness. The hand on his hip moved to his thigh, keeping him down, holding him steady so the damn mouth could’ve done whatever it want on its own term, devouring him, moving up and down in slow torturous rhythm.

Braced himself up a little with his elbows, Roy looked down and the pair of blue eyes were looking right back at him. The room was bright but the eyes were shadowed and the expression on Jason’s face was unreadable.

It’s somehow caused pain in his arm, as though the skull he carried on his skin had taken a knock on its head.

Eyes cast away, he watched his own hand crept up to the dark hair instead; Roy let his fingers grasped a stray and held onto it for a moment before leaving. There’s the other hand braced against his stomach, he caught its wrist and pulled it up.

Roy guided the fingers toward his mouth, nuzzled their tip with his lips longingly. Jason let out some rough groan as Roy opened his mouth and drew one of the fingers inside, the quiver of his throat made Roy groan in return.

With some of the fingers he was sucking and gnawing still in his mouth, his eyes fluttered open when the tightness and the warmth around his cock were leaving awhile later.

Jason hurled up his head, kind of looked like he was somehow drowning down there. “I need to--” he rasped, fell short for a second then changed his words, “Can I fuck you?”

Roy puffed out a curt laugh.

Seemed like he did change somehow, possibly that the lady and the big guy had given him some good influence. “When do you learn to be such a gentleman, Jason?” he asked in a half-joking tone after moved the hand away from his mouth and let it dropped aside.

Jason stared at him with that same unreadable expression. “I’m not going to force myself to you if you don’t want to do it.”

“So, I actually got to choose whatever happens here? But you do know I don’t always make the wise choice, right?” he retorted with a flavorless smirk, while he twitched aside to reach the drawer.

He pulled out the small bottle of lube and tossed it at Jason’s hand, because, why the hell not? Sex was always a way better option than drinks and needle.

The hand that caught the bottle was gripping it a slightly too tight, Jason didn’t say anything, just flicked the lid open and poured some liquid into his hand.

It’d been awhile, almost a year actually, since he had done this. It’s not though he wasn’t enjoy taking it, since he was always kind of taking it even though he was the one who did the fucking. Cheshire, for example, who he had been doing it a couple of times during the past year; just taking every single thing as much as people would be willing to give, possibly because he was just hopeless that way.

He wasn’t especially preferred men or women, but he had never done much with other boys than just jerking each other off or maybe even a blowjob. He didn’t know why, actually, probably because no boy he had had fun with he could really feel trust and intimate enough before, and really didn’t want to depress himself with any sort of memory after.

A moan, loud and strained, slipped off of his throat as the finger pushed past the ring of muscle. The finger making its move with certainty, arching and stretching in a way that Jason knew he would’ve enjoyed.

“Fuck,” he gasped, arm tossed up and covered his eyes with his forearm as the instant his former partner found out the spot without trying, torturing him by pressing that sweet little button.

The arm on his eyes was moved away, not forcibly but insisting; a pair of blue eyes looking straight at him, looking too deep like Roy hadn’t exposed himself enough. All he could see inside that deep shadowy blue was nothing but illusion, he would have closed his eyes or looked away if he wasn’t too stubborn to act like a coward. He stared back with his teeth gnashed, letting out only the quick breathing and some small noises.

“And you said you're not mad,” Jason dragged out a croak of a laugh after stared at him for a moment, an ugly little sound that was a bit taunting and accusing, but it wasn’t felt like it was targeting Roy.

“I would be, if you don’t get your junk in me soon,” he said gravely, getting annoyed with both of the lack of real action and the fact that his former partner really seemed to be trying to get a rise out of him.

There’re already two fingers inside, and it was driving him crazy. “Come on, jaybird,” he hurried and couldn’t help himself but noticing how Jason quivered slightly at the sound of the name. “I’m ready, save your time when you’re making love with someone.”

Jason shot him a glare, dark and murderous, before he retrieved his fingers, tugged at himself roughly and pumped hard into Roy after taking a quick but precise aim.

“Shit,” Jason was cursing, and maybe he was too, he wasn’t sure, the sensation of it, the feeling of him being stretched and filled, the small pain and immense pleasure had kind of overwhelmed any of his higher brain function.

A hand slipped under his thigh, and Roy heaved his leg without its push; Jason pressed in deeper, stayed no more than a second before pulled back almost completely, then plunged into him again and again and again.

“Damn it feels good,” Roy found himself murmuring, Jason responded with nothing but a curt, raw growl and quickened his speed, crushing Roy into the mattress.

Roy threw an arm around his neck, while the other one snaked under his arm and clutched onto his back, dragging him close, just a little bit closer, and just kind of hold on tight, kept everything he could take to himself, don’t even fucking care he was only going to lose it—again—when this was done.

Both of Jason’s arms slid behind his hip as he urged himself up, Jason muttered some distant curses into the side of his jaw. Right as the moment Roy bounced away from the mattress to meet him in the halfway, he braced his legs on the mattress, sat himself up and pulled Roy along with him suddenly.

Roy was sitting with a cock in his ass and he was riding it nonstop, bouncing repeatedly like a hyperactive little princess with her first pony.

There’re lips nudging at his mouth, brushing his lips with ghost touches until he loosens up the clench of his teeth and let the tongue in.

“A little longer,” when the kisses had broken, Jason was grumbling, “Just stay for me a little longer, Roy, just a little longer.”

He would love to, but with the pleasure he get from both his rear-end and the fraction his cock that trapped between their bodies was getting, he knew for certain they’re stretching it, there’s no way he could last long.

“Too long, Jay,” he slurred in response, “You know damn well it wouldn’t last.” He wasn’t sure why he said it, or why he said in such a sad tone.

Some weird, strangled sound slipped out of Jason’s throat, almost like a cry, Roy heaved himself up, slammed back at the exact moment when Jason lifted up to plunge him.

He gasped with his mouth wide opened, threw his head aside as his entire body was tightening and he was coming.

Jason thumped at him with a grunt as the orgasm came. The position changed again at the next second, he dropped his whole weight onto Roy and crushed him back into the bed, pushed his legs up to a extent that Roy would be sore as hell tomorrow even with his flexibility; he was ridding Roy through the wave, coming only awhile later when Roy clasped him and locked him tight with all of his body part.

Face buried deep into Roy shoulder, chest pressed into him, Jason trembled slightly. Roy could felt the hotness pouring into him, and he didn’t loosen even one part of his grip until he had gotten everything.

A moment later, Jason pulled himself out slowly, braced his hand onto Roy’s arm when he lolled aside.

He was lying flat next to Roy, the grip on Roy's arm hadn't loosened, and the fingers digging slightly into his skin. The mark was tickling the way it always did since the first time they slept together. Didn’t mean shit though, there’s no mark on Jason’s skin, and even if he had one, it wouldn’t change anything.

Although a lot of people tended to be with their soulmate, there’s no prove that things would always work out and those people who had matching mark would just stick together forever and ever.

And besides, people would leave, sooner or later, that’s just the thing with him, always had a way to drive people away, as though there’s a warning sign, or a force field, or whatever around him that made him untouchable.

“The ‘pesadilla’,” Roy said, regarding to the tattoo on his left arm, not the one that Jason was holding, but he suddenly remembered the guy had asked him once about the meaning of it, and he wanted to fill the silence before it really started to get awkward.

“Remembered how you asked me ‘ _what’s with it_ ’ and I said ‘ _don’t know_ ’? As it turns out, it’s a reminder that left on me after me and the team has tackled some bad guys when we’re kids and lost our memories.”

“You got it back now,” Jason replied in a plain voice, “Your memory, your friends, good things you’re having here.”

“Yeah,” he agreed in a mutter. “You never asked me about the others.”

Jason hummed, “Figured it isn’t much of a mystery, with the ‘poison’ and all.”

“Yeah, got the poison and the scorpion when I quit, though the skull actually is a bit different.”

“What’s with the skull.”

“A mark,” he answered offhandedly, “Have myself a dead little bird since I was a kid, a bird, or whatever with a pair of spread wings, it’s hard to tell, just some kind of flying thingy got nailed with a spear or something and lying on its back, some black and red pattern.”

There’s a moment of silence, before Jason sitting up slowly. “Why would you want to get rid of it,” he asked in a somehow tentative voice.

Roy could feel the weight of his gaze, but he didn’t bother to look back, kept staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Just gotten kicked out by Ollie at that point, kind of getting sick of having my hopes up and ended up with nothing,” he explained simply with a small shrug, then pulled himself up and got out of the bed.

Without leaving a glance on Jason’s face, Roy told him before disappearing into the bathroom, “See yourself out, partner, whenever you’re ready.”

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

When he dragged his back away from the mattress and put his feet on the floor, the gravity was right there, pulling his legs and tried its best to sink his whole body down.

He hunched forward, elbows propped up on his knees, hands rubbing his face a little.

The room was quiet, there’s a moment he expected he would have heard something; some distant rock music coming from the workshop that acknowledged him someone was still working with whatever dangerous gadget he had been working on in the middle of the night, or some small clanking noises that coming from the foot of the bed that made by someone who just couldn’t sleep tight sometimes and dismantling whatever little thing nearby with his gear before he put it back together.

Everything would be put together perfectly after he was done. _“It’s soothing, you know,”_ he had told Jason once, _“all the mechanic stuff, the woodworks. Everything has its own place, where it fit in, where it belongs.”_

 _Where do you belong then,_ sometimes he wanted to ask, but never did. Partly because he still wanted to keep the lie for himself, no matter how selfish it was; partly because he knew how meaningless it would be, to ask a question that the guy probably had already asked himself more than a few thousands times.

Unlike the guy, he had never asked himself that kind of question. At the end of the day, he was always his own man, belonged to nothing but him alone. No one owns him, just like he wouldn’t own no one. Despite how the illusion he had created had been sweet enough and it’s kind of stick with him ever since, the truth remained.

He sat on the edge of the bed until he remembered the sound he was looking for would never come; then he stood up, walked into the gravity.

The heaviness of it had made every step he took feeling too much like a labor, but it didn’t stop him, or tremble him, not physically.

Snatched the pack of cigarette and the lighter on the drawer, he walked out of the quiet room that maybe too quiet for him to sit alone and tried to sleep but only awoken by another shitty dream.

He paused after he reached the rooftop of the safe house. The redhead he hadn’t expected to see was sitting on the ground with a knee drew up; he walked closer and asked, “Couldn’t sleep? Or still haven’t?”

“What’s the different,” Artemis replied bluntly in her usual strict tone, cold but not exactly harsh. “Don’t feel like sleeping,” she added a few seconds later, after he had sit next to her in a similar posture, lit a cigarette and taken a drag.

The redhead glanced at him. “I haven’t seen you smoke.”

Jason puffed out a smoke and hummed. He didn’t do it as often as before, kind of felt inappropriate doing it in front of Bizarro, who basically was a toddler.

“Don’t want the big guy sees it and try to follow the example, who knows what he might’ve burnt down.”

The redhead snorted. “Never understand why you people need stimulation like this. What’s the purpose of intoxicate yourself.”

“Because some of us have already been intoxicated enough, we might as well do it on our own term and enjoy it?” he replied with a careless smirk. What he was saying wasn’t untrue, though the cancer stick never was the real nasty habit he needed to quit.

Another snort was the only response he got. Artemis turned her eyes back to the night outside, staring at it the same way she did when he walked in.

Jason watched her in silence, something about her figure seemed different right now than it was in daytime; the pair of green eyes shadowed by something that was private to her, something that she held close to her heart. Her eyes were dim, with only a bit of her natural grimness glinted inside.

“Do you think it would be better if you just get rid of it,” he asked after regarding her for a moment. The redhead had her right hand on her lap while the left arm hung on the knee she drew up; the drooped hand of her was touching her other hand slightly from above, thumb brushing the mark on the back of her right hand.

The vague movement hadn’t escaped Jason’s attention. She never spoke clearly of it, but thought of the way she talked about her old childhood friend who lost her mind and went kind of villainy, he would have to be a complete idiot to not reckon who was the mark referred to.

Artemis cast down her eyes, gazed at her mark for a second.

“Why would I,” she retorted in a scornful tone when she looked back at Jason. Jason shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you could just forget about the nasty past and move on?”

“It wasn’t nasty,” she said, “It was just tragic.”

“My point exactly.”

She snorted and turned the question to him, “Do you think by getting rid of all of our past, it’s the only way each one of us can move on?”

“Sure,” the answer was simple.

He always wanted to get himself a clean start, had done it more than once, really. Trade the street for a manor, but the gravity of the street still dragging him back, way back into the ground; get clean of the scars and they had always been able to open so easily just as he was about to forget they existed.

“I actually have my memory wiped out once, you know,” he said, and the redhead hummed with little interest.

“How’s that work out for you.”

“Some people remind me of who I am,” he puffed up a small snort and replied. It wasn’t hard to remember, how he had convinced he could be able to move on, even with his past, with all the shit that someone had poured on him and all the shit he had poured on others.

How much of it was his own fault and how much of it was somebody else’s, not really matter, the result was there and had left its mark that was immovable; which was ironic, since he didn’t have any kind of visible mark on his skin, not anymore.

He hadn’t felt especially sad about it, when the first time he looked at the mirror and realized the thing he bore was missing along with all the ugly scars. Sad wasn’t the emotion he would feel at that certain point, and he didn’t start to feel it even after everything.

That’s just the way it was, he had kind of figured; everything he had would’ve just gotten taken away, or burned in flame.

He liked to protect what’s his, made a claim on everything he could find, or steal, actually, and kept it to himself, that’s how it worked when you lived on the street. Too bad he wasn’t good at keeping those that were truly value as he had with a stolen wallet.

Wouldn’t it be nice, he thought to himself, to just keeping something that no one but yours, and you could be something more than just your own man. It wasn’t a hypothetical question he really had to wonder, he knew how nice it was, how tempting it was, to keep the thing that didn’t belong to him, just because he wanted it, needed it, picked it up when no one was watching and brought home.

Things were good until a crazy teenager who as fucked-up as he was had reminded him the truth, and for that he was glad, at least the wake-up call had come soon enough before another thing had gotten snatched away or ruined.

He wouldn’t have any claim on anything since the only real mark on him was just a nasty smiley face and a bunch of invisible scars, the best he could do with something that he really hate to see it destroyed, was to end the lying and let go of it.

The decision he’d made almost a years ago was a right call, but it somehow felt off when Roy said it a few days ago when he ran into the Titans.

It’s hard to say why, but the things he said, the way he said it, it just didn’t sit right with Jason. When he came to the tower, he hadn’t expected they would have any nice civil talk, not from Roy’s part anyway, considered his standard reaction whenever Green Arrow was around.

He didn’t mind if Roy saw him as another idiot who didn’t appreciate him the way he deserved, untrue as it was, that’s what Jason had expected actually, Roy being mad at him, told him to stay the hell away because things were better without him, not the politeness, the cold distance he had received instead.

Somehow it had disturbed him, seeing the green eyes clear of spark, clear of the warmth that the guy carried in his blood; there was something Jason could see inside those eyes he just couldn’t place, and it had gnawed at his skin and pissed him off.

While his right hand that still holding the cigarette with his fingers had drooped aside, his left hand moved up without thinking, touching the spot under his collar bone, a small place above his heart.

Nothing was there for anyone to see, but he could feel it, the vague itch on his skin, tickling the way it always were, only so indistinctive but somewhat undeniable, whenever his hands touched his former partner, whenever the redhead was close.

Since he was always too easily occupied by a certain bad scene in his mind, repeating it and rewind into the exact same place that was both the beginning and the end, he hadn’t had much spare time to recall the good things.

But the memory was vivid, if he ever dared himself to recall. The first time he and Roy had slept together, everything seemed good to him and his hands just kind of traveling everywhere around the torso, along with his mouth when it wasn’t busy itself with all the kissing.

There’s no mark on his body, so it’s only nature for Jason to feel free to leave his own.

He had never thought about why would somewhere on his skin itch, at the first time and every time that followed, never cared much about those marks anyway; and he tried to not think about it right now, because it was pointless, but the words Roy had said had kind of stuck in his head.

A voice drew back his attention. “Not for a second I would want to get rid of it,” Artemis suddenly said, twisted her right hands and exposing her mark. “And if anyone dares to take it away from me, I would cut off their hands.”

Jason puffed out an amused snort, before he turned to look at her properly.

“You think you still have a chance with her? After everything?”

Artemis shrugged, one of the casual gestures she rarely did. “I don’t know if I’ve already lost her for good, or if I still have a chance to get her back. But things are always gone so quickly, so easy to change, so easy to lose. The last thing I want is to give up the mark that still remains with me at the moment. No need to wipe out the bad past or drown in the lost of a good one, not for me, Jason. I am strong enough to carry whatever I have in this world and walk.”

The pair of green eyes he was looking at were as tough as any warrior’s, but Jason didn’t miss the part where her eyes fixed on her own skin before she looked up at him; the probably-not-so-small part of her that he could see in her eyes, the irremovable scar that left when the matching part of your soul had gotten ripped away.

The heartbrokenness of a heartbroken redhead, why did it look so familiar.

“Your eyes are really green, you know,” he said with a smirk after regarded the Amazon for a moment.

“Hit on me again and I will chop off your limbs,” the redhead replied in certainty, and he acknowledged it with his hands lifted up as a peace gesture.

“Pardon me, Red,” he said in a light tone, despite how heavy his heart was, “Just kind of have a thing for redhead.”

 

***

 

The door of the motel room opened no more than a second before it closed again; someone slipped in, swift and soundless as always.

He was sitting on the bed, half facing away from the door. If the cold air outside hadn’t swarmed in and brushed slightly on his naked skin, he wouldn’t even notice.

It wasn’t much of a surprise, since he was kind of expecting someone might’ve given him a little visit. He continued peeling off his suit, but had decided to leave the lower half on, not just wanted to show some decency but mainly for safety reason.

There’s a fifty-fifty chance that he might still need his weapons, no matter how unlikely it was, considered the little chat they had about an hour ago, he wasn’t going to disarm himself until he was confirmed that the brunette was going to play nice.

“Are you here to have your fun with me by trying to kill me, or can we do something more civil yet equally enjoyable for both of us, which wouldn’t end up with us trashing the motel room…much?” he was saying while tossing the top of his suit aside, didn’t bother to look at the door.

“You know me, always do things the civil way.”

He paused and turned slowly.

That’s a brunette alright, but definitely not the brunette he had in mind, not in the moment anyway.

“Expecting someone?” Jason asked, seemingly had caught the surprise on his face.

Roy didn’t answer but looked at the guy carefully.

He should’ve known, though the guy seemed to be working with his new team these days, but Gotham hardly would be the most unlikely place he would show his presence.

Always drew to this city, for better or worse. Roy thought halfheartedly. That’s the feeling he had never shared, he wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t heard the intel about how his sponsor might’ve gotten into trouble couple of days ago.

Not that he and Croc were still keeping touch in these days, or actually had been real chummy at any point, but that’s the thing with people who saved your life, you just couldn’t sit tight if there’s any chance they might be in danger.

So he had traced the lead to Gotham, run into some people while he done some digging himself.

As it had turned out, Croc wasn’t in any danger, not within Roy’s knowledge anyway. The big crocodile wasn’t even in Gotham, the thing with green thick skin and a big jaw Roy had heard about, was only some experimental mutant that bred by some bad guys who had gotten themselves involve with some really nasty guys.

The next thing he knew, he was in a league of assassins event, along with Dick and some of his Bat family member which Roy had never met before. And Cheshire was there in the bad-guy team, so they fought and they flirted, all the standard procedure.

They didn’t name the time and the place before the fought was over and the league had retreated. They never made anything a thing, but since the last few times they had run into each other, she had tracked him down after the fight when he was alone, Roy didn’t see why this time would be any different.

Dick had invited him to stay at his place for the night, but Roy had declined. Not really because he had expected Cheshire might’ve showed up, but the air of this city had always had a distinctive scent and weight, and it just seemed a little bit too much for him, at the moment, when the things he had already done a great job of letting it go was all coming back to life in merely one night.

The faint scent of dirt and blood, the weight of pale darkness, just underneath the remaining taste of tobacco; no matter how far away Jason went, he had always carried the city with him, and he’s always trying to shake it off.

 _But why would he do that,_ Roy could’ve remembered thinking to himself. Sure the past was terrible, but any part of the memory, nasty or not, had made him who he was today; someone who had his own suffering, his own mistake, his own personal demon, someone who didn’t say “screw it” but just trying to do better, wanted to be better, despite how much shit he had been through, how terrible this world could seem to be. And even in the world that full of people with super strength, there’s no way this one wasn’t one of the strongest.

The room seemed to be too small for the two of them; feeling the scent, the weight, the pull, the faint itch on his damn skin, Roy couldn’t help but noticed.

There’s something dreadful yet sweet, a bit cold but painfully warm. Something conflicted on the tip of his tongue that wasn’t hard to trace.

He bit his tongue a little.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with a frown, sounded both confused and tired.

He hadn’t seen Jason during the fight, but it was easy to imagine he was there and he had spotted him. The motel Roy was staying was barely outside the city; he had felt too tired to drive and decided to spend the night in here. It seemed like a smart decision at the time, so apparently, he really wasn’t good at making smart decision.

Did his former partner somehow loathe him this much, he had to taunt him by haunting him? Roy was wondering, while Jason was saying, “Just think I should inform you that your date has been canceled.”

Roy stared blankly at him.

“What are you--” he creased his brows and asked, but that wasn’t the right question, “How--” not this either.

Jason did nothing but just stood there and inspected his room.

Roy took a deep breath through his teeth, before he pulled out the right one, “ _What did you do._ ”

Jason hummed.

“Haven’t you had enough friends?” he ignored the question and said, in a half drawling way, eyes still roaming everywhere except Roy’s face. “What’s with you and bad people.”

Roy stared at him sternly. “What did you do.”

“Nothing,” the guy simply replied. “Just had a chat with her.”

“Why.”

“Come on, anyone in the fight can see you two doing the mating dance.”

“And how is it your business?” Roy squinted, not snarling yet, but close. The blue eyes stared at somewhere behind Roy, gaze fixed for a moment, before he made the decision of turn his eyes on him.

Jason told him with patience, “You got everything back now, don’t screw it up by getting involve with the wrong crowd.”

“Again, how is it your business,” now he was snarling, and Jason hadn’t lost one part of his calm.

“She’s bad news, Roy, you should see that.”

Instantly, his mouth clammed tight.

The fact that his former partner had blown his potential chance of having sex with a woman who had tried to kill him most of the time but in deed kind of saved him once when it truly counted during the past year, hadn’t made him as angry as the guy was doing this as though he had every right to.

He would’ve started to yell, if he hadn’t understood why Jason was doing this, for his own’s sake, of course.

Shielded himself with as much armor as he want, but when did he not care? Even just a little, even for those who wasn’t supposed to be his problem anymore. Roy thought, and let out a small, mocking snort.

Feeling too damn tired to be furious, he leaned forward, rest his hands on his lap and holding his hands loosely.

“You don’t know her,” the response was flat, he looked straight at his old partner while Jason just kind of staring at the general area of his eyebrows instead of meeting his eyes.

“I do,” Jason said, “I was in the league once, remember?”

Sure, but that’s not the point, well, not completely.

“She isn’t some big force of evil,” he said, pondering for a brief second before he added, “People could change, or at least they could try to be better. We both know that.”

The blue eyes darted at him, gave him a quick glance then swayed away.

Jason twitched his lips slightly, a flash of a smile that wasn’t exactly ugly, but bitter and tart. “Wake up, Roy,” he reminded, “She’s a criminal, a killer, that’s what she is. Do you think you could somehow fuck her to be good?”

That’s harsh, but there’s no real bite behind it.

It’s not like he could’ve actually defended Ches— _“Jade,”_ she had told him—in any way. The woman should be in prison, considered how much lives she had taken. But the time she had saved him, the way she had looked at him when he had tried to reason with her, the pain, the conflict, the small spark of hope. And that’s the first time they had slept together.

There’s something between them, something just a little more than a smoking hot assassin and a nature born thrill-seeker. A faint hollowness of an empty space that had got Roy to wonder, that what more did him and all of those people had lost, in all those times that had been removed from them.

Did he somehow happier in those times? Or did he lose way more than he could’ve afforded. Sometimes he wondered, not exactly in pain, just in a bit of sorrow.

It somehow made him feel like an amputee, couldn’t help himself from noticing the weight of the phantom limbs. It really wasn’t much of a happy feeling, but at some point, he thought he could live with it, carrying it in peace, because although the lost was grave, but life goes on, and there’s still some good thing for him in the upfront.

He was an optimistic, in a way, if he wasn’t depressed. Then, things had ended, because why his fear wouldn’t have come true. He was better once he had his friends back, and now he was completely fine with his life, if only his right arm would’ve stopped with the itching, he might’ve even happier.

A few seconds later, he started calmly, “She could be good,” not that she had ever said she wanted to turned her life over, not actually; and not that Roy had honestly believed a girl like her would’ve just abandon her evil way if she had gotten some love, they weren’t anywhere near in love and he wasn’t that stupid.

Just because the idea of being a good people seemed nice sometimes, that wasn’t enough to change a person. It took way more than that, he would know.

But he said it anyway, because somehow he didn’t think the matter they’re addressing right now was about Cheshire, not entirely.

“She could be better,” he looked at Jason, and finally, the guy examined enough of whatever that wasn’t Roy’s eyes, and turned to meet his gaze. “If she really wanted to be, if someone would just give her a chance.”

“Not all people are as good as you think.” The response came quick but calculated. Roy snorted then smirked a little.

“Well, not all people are remotely as terrible as you think.”

And of course he upset the guy.

Jason looked at him with a grave scowl, the glint in his eyes was almost icy if it wasn’t flaming. “Don’t be stupid,” he said in an aloof tone, “You know she only drags you down.”

That was just funny, he puffed out a laugh. “You’re right,” Roy shook his head slightly and agreed, “That’s a stupid mistake. And that’s me, a stupid mistake that lives for produce stupid mistakes. The king of thrill-seekers that just couldn’t stay away from trouble. You should know that, Jason. Isn’t that why you wanted to split?”

The guy froze for a second. “I split because that’s what best for you,” he replied carefully.

“Yeah, whatever. It’s not like I’m gonna marry her, it’s just sex anyway,” Roy said with a shrug, leaning slightly backward, with his hands braced behind on the bed he was sitting.

Jason studied him for a moment, from his face to his half-naked body, then back to his face again. “If you’re expecting sex for the night, that could be arranged.”

Roy hummed intriguingly.

Why he had to do this to him, Roy wouldn’t know. Maybe Jason just didn’t realize so he thinks that would be fine if they’re just screwing around like old-times, or maybe the guy just really loathed him that much.

“Is that you offering, Jaybird?” he asked in a mock curious tone.

“What does it sound like.”

“It sounds like you’re offering,” Roy stated, watching his old partner walked toward him.

Despite how there’s a part of him just wanted to get the hell a way, he threw Jason a lopsided smirk, once he’s standing right in front of Roy, with his legs barely touching Roy’s knees.

“Who am I to say no to sex?”

The second the murmur was out, Jason moved in, stride onto the bed with one knee, pressed it tightly at the side of Roy’s thigh. There’s a hand held on the back of his skull, and there’s another hand grasped the skull on his arm.

He faced upward, grabbed the hand on his arm instinctively, clasped tight on its wrist and tried to be a less like a drowning man in the sea who had no more than a piece of wood to keep him alive.

Not a sense of steadiness inside, the kiss Roy was getting was barely a kiss but more of a strike; the biting on his lips was stern and aimless, shifting constantly, dashing along his mouth and gnawing everywhere, as if the guy was trying hard to capture something in the dark that just wouldn’t hold still.

It was as painful as it was good, he didn’t make an effort to slow it down but went along with it, hands fumbled at Jason’s belt as he was returning the chewing and gnawing.

Jason waved back a little, shrugged off the jacket he was wearing and pulled off the undershirt, then surged back at Roy in an instant. It hadn’t come to Roy’s notice until he unfastened the belt, that his hands was trembling, then he realized, that somehow, his old partner was too.

Roy slowed down once he had noticed that; a hand moved up to his chest, Roy gave the guy a small push, pressing firmly somewhere near the position of his heart. The guy shuddered as he did that; the hand on his head rushed away and clasped his wrist instead.

When Jason pulled back from the bed, Roy stood up on the floor with him, moved his free hand up to the side of Jason’s face, touching it with small touches.

The grip on him tightened immediately, as the moment Roy brushed his lips with a soft, small kiss. Jason huffed out a pained grunt and pressed his mouth against Roy’s, breathing heavily with need.

Roy didn’t react by pressing any further, just kept it slow and easy; and the slow kiss tasted bitter in Roy’s own mouth, as bitter as it was sweet.

The calmness of it sedated the guy, who was always kind of quick at his impulse, possibly as quick as Roy.

Roy left one last kiss on his lips, nuzzled the face just a little, just a little hard to let go, before he sat Jason down on the bed, settled himself between those thighs and sank on his knees.

He pulled out the erection that was basically raging, the weight and the warmth in his hands punched him in his chest and knocked the wind out of him. Roy nudged it with his opened mouth, and for a moment just doing nothing but breathe it in.

Jason didn’t seem like he was in a hurry as he was before; there’s a hand rested on Roy’s head, scratching his skull in a tender manner, almost adoringly. Roy couldn’t help himself but looked up, and immediately got struck by the sharp intensity of the blue eyes that were stabbing inside a layer too deep.

A brief moment, then he blinked and dropped his gaze, didn’t especially feel like torturing himself with things that only existed in his imagine. Roy lowered his head, licked at the inside of his mouth and drew Jason in.

There’s no voice but all the gasping, grunting, and moaning.

None of them had said a word, until they both had their turn.

“I mean what I said,” a while later, when they both lying on bed, Jason uttered without looking at him. “I didn’t split because you’re bad for me. I split because I’m bad for you.”

Roy puffed out a faint snort, kept staring at the ceiling for a few seconds.

“I was drinking again, after you left, like, literally fallen off the wagon,” he started, then cast a glance at his former partner.

Jason sat up and facing him directly; the look on his face made Roy rolled his eyes.

“It’s not your fault dude, so don’t give me that look,” he grumbled with distaste, pausing a second before explained casually, “I kept having those dream, those feeling, that I lost something really, really important, I didn’t know that was the memory of my friends, all I knew is it hurts. I wasn't drinking when you and Kori saved my ass in Qurac, but I wasn’t in my happiest day either, not until you guys showed up. Then she left, so again, it hurts. And I just wanted some time alone, figured it’s better than wait until you walk away too. But then, you just came and saved my ass again.”

Jason didn’t say anything but watched him with a scowl. Not that he was looking for a reply anyway. He just kind of felt like he should talk about stuff, since he never did, since the guy just kind of walked out on him and didn’t give him a chance to say anything, not that he could’ve found anything to say at that moment, but still.

“The feeling of losing something was still there, when we’re partners,” Roy continued in a quiet tone, “but I thought I could’ve moved on with it. Because although everything from my past seemed like they really wanted to get away from me, at least I still had one really good thing here, and that’s all I needed to stay strong.”

Turned his gaze away from the ceiling, he tipped his head aside and gave Jason a smirk.

“But then you left, so there’s no need for me to stay strong for you anymore. And you know me, never good with the pain, so I drink, and kind of thinking if I just numb my brain enough, if I could be deep enough in those dream, maybe I could actually remember something.” He snorted at himself internally. “Why not chasing the past, you know, since there’s no good thing ahead of me.”

“You never said anything, about your dream.”

“What, you think I would ever want to ruin the things with you by talking about some weird dream I didn’t even know what it means?”

Jason silenced for a moment, before he said, “I wouldn’t have left if I know you’re having trouble.”

“I’m sure you would leave sooner or later,” the response was plain and simple.

He pondered for a second before let out a muted chuckle. “You know it’s funny, the whole time we’re partnering, I just somehow believed I was wearing your mark, didn’t matter you don’t have a mark at all, still kind of felt like it. Don’t know why I’d think that, don’t know why it mattered actually. Guess I just liked the idea.”

Feeling the weight beside him was shifting suddenly, Roy turned his eyes, only baffled for a second before he realized what Jason was doing.

Seemed a bit rude when people were having their closure, but it’s not like they had more to say anyway. Roy watched him calmly as he slipped off the bed and stood up.

Eyes cast down while he’s searching for his clothing, Jason said in a strain voice, “I gotta go.”

“Sure,” Roy simply replied.

Jason didn’t glance at him once, not until he was fully clothed, and then he did, and he just stood there, in the middle of the motel room, and glared at him with a massive scowl on his face, as if Roy just killed his puppy with bare hands and stomped its body to pulp.

Apparently, there’s something the guy wanted to say, but just didn’t have the heart to say it.

 _Guess it falls on me then._ Roy thought to himself, and stretched his mouth into a smile. “Bye, Jason,” he bid him goodbye.

 

***

 

“Uh,” he had less than zero clue of what was happening here.

Did someone just removed years of his past again? Should he be worry? Lowered the magazine he was reading, he stared at the guy warily and thought.

If he said he wasn’t expecting to see the guy in the next decade, that might’ve a bit exaggerated; but he had already spoken his mind last time, given the things between them—whatever that was—a proper end.

They would’ve avoided each other as best as they could, and even they ran into each other by accident, they wouldn’t exchange a word, wouldn’t try to act like a couple of old friends.

It’s not that he wasn’t those people who could be friend with their exes, but that’s not what they are, they’re friends and they’re partners, and they’re even more, despite how the guy didn’t feel the way he felt.

Roy had trusted the guy would’ve had enough social manners to leave him alone, until he was ready, possibly years later, and then they would sit down together when they had ran into each other during an incident, and they would talk, and his arm probably would still itching indistinctly, but it would be fine.

He didn’t know how long it would take, but he knew damn sure it wouldn’t be now; now he hadn’t even started to heal, it had only been one day since he had left Gotham for fuck’s sake.

“Are you in trouble or something? Is there an emergency?” Roy asked with his eyebrows knitted together, that’s the only reason he could think of, otherwise, Jason wouldn’t be presenting himself at the Tower, and strode into his quarter without a knock on the door.

It was daytime, and everything seemed peaceful outside, whatever urgent problem Jason was having, it assumingly wasn’t concern this city.

The guy replied hastily, “No.”

And Roy was at lost.

The guy who was wearing his casual, looked at Roy quickly, before he shrugged off his jacket.

“Excuse me?” Roy shook his head, tried to call for his attention.

“Stripper who looks like my ex-partner? Could you stopped stripping for a moment and tell me what’s going on? Did Dick hire you? Did the guys forget when is my actual birthday?”

Jason, or the weird guy who look exactly like Jason, did fall short for a second, hands pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, and threw him an amused glance.

He didn’t say anything, just went on pull off his shirt.

That was seriously disturbing.

“Are you here for a hook-up? Am I your booty-call now?” a booty-call who didn’t even get a call first, he added to himself.

Roy didn’t think it was possible, he didn’t think Jason was that cruel, but there’s a good chance that the guy really was thicker than he thought, and he just couldn’t understand what Roy had told him last night. Roy was pondering until he noticed something.

“Uh,” he frowned at the naked chest.

Jason left the shirt on the ground along with his Jacket.

There’s something it shouldn’t be there, on his skin, a small spot under the collarbone, a little bit closer on the left side.

A bright red pattern decorated with some black color; a slender shaft with a pointed head at one end and feathers fastened at the other, cracked in half, curving like a “V”.

“A ‘broken arrow’.”

Jason hummed in response.

Roy cast up his eyes and looked at the guy with caution. “Would it be weird if I told you, that is like, my tribal name?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m surprise,” Jason replied with a small snort, staring at Roy with more discreet than a moment ago, clearly was checking his reaction.

Roy didn’t know how he should react, he didn’t even know what’s going on, honestly. Eyes drifted away from the ink, which was a bit raw, positively had only made no more than one day, he stared at the guy in utter confusion.

“Do you remember how you used to call me an idiot, all the time?” Roy started slowly, and the corner of Jason’s mouth twitched a bit. “Would you mind treat me like one and give me some explanation in plain language? ‘Cause I’m completely clueless here.”

“I didn’t have any scars once I’m out of the Lazarus Pit. Scars, or the mark I had before I die,” Jason told him after regarding him for a few seconds. “I didn’t think of it much, didn’t seemed matter to me whether it was there or not, not since I died, figured it was just another thing that got taken from me. But that’s how I remember, how it looked like when it was on my skin.”

The information wasn’t really come as a surprise, that wasn’t the part that beyond his comprehension.

“Why now, Jason,” Roy asked quietly, pressed his back into the chair he was sitting on, “Why would you want to get it back now.”

Though his expression didn’t change much, but Roy could see the sadness inside, waving slightly in silence.

“I don’t know why you would think all the bullshit you think, really,” instead of answering his question, Jason said in a grim tone, “You made mistakes, sure, but you're always a good guy. A guy who deserves something way more than a big crazy who’s killed dozens of people. I acted like you were the one who dragged me into all of those partnership things, but that’s a lie, I wasn’t any better than when I raised hell in Gotham, not until you, and Kori.”

He paused to give Roy a second of inspection, probably wanted to make sure he was in truth listening.

“Why the hell would I track you down again,” he puffed out a faint, sarcastic snort. “You didn’t need me as much as I need you. You lost, Roy, but then you found your way, that’s what you do. You get hit, you get up. I was the one who need you to be there, but I couldn’t do this if I’m just as incurable as Duela, if I’m doomed to destroy things, I’m not going to let it to be you.”

 “Wow,” Roy didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m speechless, Jaybird, you did it. That’s…that’s rich, that’s real crazy.” He shook his head incredulously. “And you said you don’t know why _I_ would think all the bullshit I think.”

Hands ran through his short hair, Roy hunched down a little, held onto the back of his head while he was meeting the eyes of his crazy ex-partner.

“I’m not gonna lie and say you’re the nicest guy in the world,” Roy informed him with patience, “But you’re a hell of a good guy, Jason Todd, and you deserve every damn thing you deserve. No clown is going to destroy you, not anymore, and no you-destroying-other-people bullshit either. You have as much chance as any people who would want the chance and has fought for it. And you win, ‘cause that what strong people do.”

Jason tipped his head and gave him a tender look. “I’m flattered, Roy, but I think your affection for me has clouded your judgment.”

“Fuck you,” he countered offhandedly without a bit of heat.

“Seriously dude, please put your Bat paranoia into something useful and just trust yourself. I made friends with good people and I made friends with bad guys who didn’t kill me more often than they’ve saved me, that basically made me a supreme judge of character.”

“I’ll try, but no promise here,” Jason said with a small shrug, lips curled up a little. Roy snorted but couldn’t help himself from smiling.

What was it, really, what were they doing here.

Roy dropped his gaze and pondered for a moment, before he turned his eyes back to Jason.

“You still haven’t told me why you want the mark back.”

Jason twitched his lips.

“A _dead_ bird and a _broken_ arrow? Sounds like a hell of a match to me,” he replied in a careless tone; a second of silence, then the blue eyes were looking right into Roy.

“If thing really is mine, I’ll be damn if I’m not going to keep it.”

Roy hummed, left hand slide off the side of his head and moved up to his right arm, tapping the place where was tickling.

“How does it work, exactly,” he asked, “You have you own team, I have mine, I don’t see we’ll be partner up any day soon.”

“We’ll find a way. This is me being optimistic here, so bear with me, Roy.”

If he put it that way, “Well, I guess we don’t really have to partner up to be partners, if that’s what you’re suggesting here.”

“Unless I went and gave myself a tattoo it’s because I couldn’t find a friendship bracelet in Gotham.”

“That mouth of yours,” Roy clicked his tongue disapprovingly. Jason smirked in return.

“Just another prove that we found ourselves a match.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, leave the comment and kodos if you enjoy it :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I made another chapter, I just couldn't get the follow-up porn out of my head. But I don't wanna write porn without some emotional stuff, so I wrote some more emotional stuff.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are highly appreciated!

She sat in her own room and thought about what happened.

The fight against H.I.V.E had been no small play, but it felt like barely a workout compared to what she had encountered afterward.

At first, the emotion had been controlled; she hadn’t been anywhere near the guys when they had bumped in and joined the fight, until she had gotten close, and instantly, it had touched her, a tap on her shoulder, faint but definite.

They had tried to keep their attention to the fight, paying no mind to one another as best as they could.

Most of the time she wouldn’t even notice, the barrier she built was enough to keep it out, preventing her from sank into the bottomless sea any second she was around people; unless it was too consuming for her to hold back, or it was coming from someone who’s close to her, someone she cared about, who she couldn’t help herself from open her heart and pick up the trace of their pain.

The moment she had sensed it, she knew where it was coming from. Even without the use of her power, she had taken the counselor job long enough to reckon the personal trait.

What had triggered it, that was unknown. She had made a note to herself that she should be examine it once the fight was over.

Then the fight was over, and she did, not too much as a poke at the brain, because it would be a violation of trust, and she had learnt her lesson about that. Although Roy hardly was as much of a private person as Dick, but she knew there was a line she should never cross, not again, even it was out of the good intention of her heart.

She didn’t do much but turned her gaze at him, didn’t do much but gathered whatever was seeping out.

Unlike its owner, the drizzling rain was quiet; covered her whole and soaking her skin. It wasn’t something intense or terrifying, no lightning or thunder; just a somber rain that felt like it was everlasting, shrouded the warmth in bleak mist and wetting the ground almost without a sound.

The rain had made her shudder, wetting her eyes slightly along with her skin.

Involuntarily, she had followed his gaze with her guard lowered, and twisted her face away within a second.

The man who her friend had been watching hadn’t noticed the gaze from distant, he hadn’t looked back, seemed to be focusing on the conversation he was having with her other friend.

But that wasn’t where his mind on at all, if the stream of lava she had walked right into was any proof.

It didn’t appear to be angry, no roaring sound she could hear that would make her feel like she might be standing at the same block with an active volcano. But just because it’s tranquil, didn’t mean it couldn’t easily torch her skin and make her recoil.

She had retreated into the rain of bile, and immediately feeling too cold.

It had tormented her in a way that the fight could not be able to, she was in the middle of it, the one who knew truly, didn’t have to dig into any secret vault to discover the longing, the pain, the love from both side that they believed it was never for them to have.

She had known a great deal about Roy by being his counselor, even way more than being his friend. A bright sprit, a light-hearted guy, that’s how she had known, until the day he had walked into her addition counselor office with no memory of their past.

The feeling of lost was on the back of their mind, they all had carried it. Some of them could barely notice it upon everything; it didn’t affect them much, no more than a vague question mark.

But it was different, for those who were both perceptive and sensitive, who didn’t have a family as the rest of them, didn’t have a place he could turn home to; who, for some reasons, never had really considered himself was lovable.

She remembered how he had talked about his father, the silent man who lived in the wood and barely talked about anything, especially about the woman that left only a child and a mark on his skin as the proof of her existence— _“I assumed that was hers,”_ he had told her in the office, _“seeing how he clutched the side of his stomach--that’s where the mark was--while he was crying. It’s my bad, really, shouldn’t have asked him about how my mom looked like. Just kind of curious, you know, since he wasn’t a carrot-head like me. Should’ve known he wouldn’t answer but went out and get home drunk.”_

He had told her a lot of things back then, mostly about the unexplainable dream of his lost memory; but sometimes, he did talk about other things, his father, the mother he never met, the fire that haunted him for months after he had survived ( _“I should be there,”_ he had said during one of the sessions, _“with him. But I wasn’t. Guess I’m just not supposed to be home.”_ ), the life with the Navajo, the life on the street, the life with Oliver even.

Yet, it had come to her notice that he had never said anything about what happened before the first time he walked into her office and asked for her help.

The wound was far too raw to be touch. She realized that after she had asked him, despite how he had merely shrugged in response and changed the subject.

She didn’t know much about the relation between her friend and the Red Hood, but the emotion they’re regarding to one another was unmistaken.

The frigidness of the rain urged her into somewhere warmer, but the source of heat at the opposite end was far too fierce for her to get close.

It was dreadful to think what it would be like, with that kind of intensity, what might have happened, if someone who was capable of having such strong feeling had gotten his heart damaged and drawn into the dark place.

She could understand why her friend wouldn’t do anything, but how could the Red Hood stood there and talked in such a casual manner while he was feeling what he felt, it was beyond her imagination.

What had prevented him to do what his heart clearly wanted, did he somehow believe he was unlovable, as Roy had believed himself was? Or did he believe he was incapable to love, maybe because of the rumor about him that she had heard? Lilith had wondered, once she had taken another look at Red Hood, with more preparation this time.

Although she could identify the feeling, she couldn’t know the reason behind it without poking too deep.

She had turned her eyes back on Roy; seconds later, Roy had noticed her gaze and glanced at her, but immediately facing away.

She had wanted to talk to him afterward, but didn’t want to push him. She was waiting for Roy to say something, but he never did.

Maybe she should be the one who starts the talking, she thought to herself.

Although there was no prescription she could give for the heartbreak, but at least she could help by reminding him that he still had his friends, that he wasn’t alone.

 

***

 

“Please,” the blood spat out, smeared red on the whole chin as the little guy croaked. “Just…just help me, just do something! Don’t just stand there, do something!”

“Sorry, but you’re on your own.”

Back pressed against the wall, he slumped down slowly.

The upper part of the uniform was torn due to the brutal strike; he caught a glimpse of the delicate pattern on the left side of the chest.

Another hit, landed exactly where the pattern was. He flinched as the skin was broken and the design was mashed.

He pinched his eyes shut.

“You’re on your own, kid,” he murmured to himself, “I can’t help you, I’m sorry…I’m sorry, you’re on your own.”

 

***

 

“If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do this together,” he announced slowly, after he took a moment of consideration.

Stood beside the small pile of his own jacket and shirt, Jason tilted his head like he was intrigued.

“There’s a way we could do this separately?”

“Don’t be a smartass, you know what I mean,” Roy scolded mindlessly, regarded Jason for a few seconds before he started again.

“I don’t read mind, Jason,” hands put down on his lap and straightened his back a little on the chair, Roy’s expression was serious, “So if you’re ever having some crazy thought about how you are incurable or might not be a good guy, or having any kind of clown related crisis, please don’t run away, not before you at least try to talk to me, like, really talk to me, not give me some confusing break up speech.”

There’s something floated up in that pair of blue eyes as the guy was pondering; self-mockery, perhaps, a fragment of bleak sharpness.

He asked in a calculated tone, “Would it be a deal breaker if I told you I can’t exactly promise it would never happen again?”

Roy let out a sigh.

“No,” he grumbled, with a faint snort that was as much as for himself as it was for the guy.

That was just the thing with people who was your soulmate, he guessed, there’s hardly would be something that was unacceptable enough that could be a total deal breaker.

Sure it would be more soothing if the man he loved wouldn’t have pushed him away and disappeared on him whenever he was having some serious emotional crisis; but it barely could be a catch considered the good he had.

“Just give me a heads up, okay? So I’ll know where to track you down. The only thing I really, really don’t need is you being gone. I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about how you feel, or snap at me or whatever, just please remember I am here and you’re not doing anything alone.”

He really hoped Jason would understand, that since they’re in this together, then there’s no ‘I’ in the team; whatever his problem was, it was Roy’s problem.

“If you ever think you aren’t strong enough to fight craps, remember this, once you’re down, I’m right down with you, there’s no way you can prevent that, because we are a package deal. So unless you wanna screw me up, you have no choice but be strong as the kind of strong person you are,” Roy said clearly, showing just how much he meant business, ”I trust that you won’t screw me up, so I’ll return the favor by never screw you up ever.”

By the time he was done, the sharpness in Jason’s eyes was vanished, and the blue was really breathtaking when they were softened like this.

“I don’t know how I could ever forget that. You’re on my skin now, Roy,” Jason replied in a caressing tone.

“Oh that’s smooth, that’s real smooth,” Roy muttered, suddenly feeling more than just a bit self-conscious under the broad adoration he was facing.

Jason actually smiled a little, not a smirk, a true smile.

He hoped he wasn’t doing the heart eyes thing. Was he doing the heart eyes thing? He probably was.

“What should we do now?” left hand drifted up and held onto his inching right arm, Roy said with a half shrug, couldn’t help but squirming on the chair a little. “Should we be having a romantic date in the restaurant or something?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Roy responded with an obscure hum.

Few minutes later, they’re in bed.

Not that there’s any problem of having a romantic date, but considered how the guy had been standing in Roy’s quarter with half of his clothing had been stripped off, he maybe a bit too underdress for any classy restaurant.

And besides, they’re already doing this, sure there would be enough time to do whatever relationship thing they want whenever they want.

They’re sitting on the bed face to face; the T-shirt Roy had been wearing was on the floor somewhere, but they still had their pants on.

He sat on his knees, with one of his hands braced against the base of Jason’s thigh and the other one cupping the side of that handsome face of his. Jason’s legs spread out casually and crooked around him, hands rested on his waist and taking a loose hold.

The postures were as laze as the kiss they were sharing, shifting and angling their head indistinctively as they’re grazing each other’s mouth, pressed tight before parted a little and exchanged the warmth breath, some suckle on the lips, tongues touched and tangled languidly.

Without the urgency, the fear, the pain, it was sweet enough to sore Roy’s teeth and slackened his body. He wouldn’t have any objection if they’re just doing this forever; just touching and kissing each other like a couple of teenagers.

He wasn’t sure had they ever done thing this way; back when they were partnering, sometimes, in the middle of the night, Roy would find himself awake by some small touches.

A pair of lips would be brushing the corner of his jaw, and he would hum sleepily and return the vague kiss. And it would be slow and sluggish, but the undertone of it was always bitter.

What had woken him at the first place, what had haunted him at night, Roy had never asked, since he had already had a pretty good guess. The death was with his partner, and there’s no real way anyone could remove the tragic.

No one could drag him out of the horrifying place that had confined him, if he didn’t believe he could ever be free. There’s not much Roy could actually do, no matter how he wished he could erase the pain. The only thing he could do was be there, to share the pain with pleasure at all time, to remind his partner there was help for him whenever he needed.

Roy climbed onto the body as Jason stretched his lags and laid back. The skull on his skin was fuming under the graze of a callused hand; he bent his head toward the naked chest.

“A broken thing and a dead thing, should have known from the start,” the smartass who was Roy’s soulmate smirked; fingers tapping at Roy’s arm adoringly, while the other hand of him strolling from the base of Roy’s spine to the middle of his arched back.

Roy hummed appreciatively above the ink arrow. Jason was saying in a thoughtful tone, “How do you figured, Roy? Do you think it means we both the worst or we both awesome.”

“Positively a little bit of both,” he flashed him a small grin before lowered his head again. “But you know, people often come back from the death, what doesn’t kill you permanently make you stronger. And as long as there some superglue around, I’m pretty sure whatever broken could be put back as good as new.”

“So encouraging,” Jason sighed, sarcastic as always, but not a bit bashing.

Roy hummed happily in response. Mouth itching to press tight onto the inked skin, but the tattoo seemed like it was way too raw for a heavy touch, he let his lips ghosted around the pattern instead, doing nothing but just felt it.

A faint buzz, Roy closed his eyes, feeling it on his own arm and his lips, like there’s some magnetic feedback.

Palm sunk deep into Roy’s arm, Jason let out a throaty groan, then snaked up his other hand.

A thumb dipped into the dented spot of his nape, a small press on the spot, and Roy had no choice but landed his mouth entirely onto the arrow.

Both of their body quivered slightly thanks to that. The small shock of electricity spread from his right arm to his whole body.

The hand on his nape rushed down to the base of his thigh, pinching him in just a right way. “Shit,” a whine escaped Roy’s throat, he went limp within a second.

If Roy had considered the last two times were anything good, then this time was nothing but astonishing.

He had absolutely no problem with the slow rhythm, until they both got their pants off and Roy was lying on bed with two fingers stretching and writhing inside him, for like, awhile, then it became more of a sweet devastating torture than just plain heavenly.

He gasped hard, couldn’t help himself but pushed back into the fingers. The sadistic guy he called his partner stopped and drew back a little, pressing firmly at the leg Roy had swung over his shoulder with his other hand.

Roy twitched and grumbled a few curses under his breath.

Jason glanced up at him with an expression that was somehow fascinated, or just outright sadistic, Roy couldn’t tell; he didn’t move again until Roy backed off and stopped grinding himself into his fingers.

“Don’t want to be a whiner here, but do you mind?” despite how frustrated he felt, Roy asked politely, after he had successfully found his tongue and a scrap of his brain function.

Eyes dedicating to where his fingers disappear, Jason responded with nothing but an abstracted hum.

“Come on,” Roy whined out loud, “If you’re not going to do anything any day soon, I’m just gonna ignore you and jerk myself off.” And it would be fast, probably ten seconds top, it was a miracle he could still hold this long actually.

“Don’t make me tie up your hands,” Jason threatened with half a heart. Roy groaned in exasperation, arm threw up and landed on the half of his burning face.

He complained, “Then do something, Jaybird! What are you waiting for!”

“What,” Jason replied in a sarcastic tone, “I’m not even allowed to take my time _now_?”

Roy let his arm slid off from his face and glanced at the guy in confusion, wasn’t understand what did he mean by that, not until he recalled what he himself had said, about how Jason should save his time when he was making love with someone.

Then his face that was already burning was on fire, “Uh,” he stuttered in a small voice, tried his best to hold still on the bed and dragged back his trembling body that was about to fall off on the edge.

“No, of course not, just…take as much time as you want. I’ll just…wait in here, yup,” he glimpsed at Jason and twitched his head slightly in a nod, before he took a shaky breath, bit on his teeth with a spirit of a martyr.

Jason glared at him, eyebrows creased together incredulously.

Not so sure why Jason was looking at him like he was an alien--a really freakish one, he frowned in return.

Jason started before he could voice his question, “You’re ready, right?”

“Yes,” the reply was sharp, shooting out within an instant. Dammit, he bit his tongue. “I mean, yeah, whatever, if you think so.”

Suddenly, a mouth surged up and pressed hard into his; he gasped once the brief kiss was broken and the fingers were drawing out completely.

Not that he was complaining or anything, he actually felt like he should write a thank you note just for this, but, “Thought you’re gonna take your time?”

“Not with you being like this. Hell am I going to last,” Jason muttered, right before he guided himself into Roy, all nice and slow.

Eyes clammed shut, Roy angled his head blindly and searched for the mouth that was torching his jaw with heavy breathing.

He ended up landed his mouth at the tip of Jason’s chin; he pressing tight against it, moaned loud into it as his partner was fully in.

None of them were dared to move at first, and then they did, started in some slow, tentative motion.

And god, it was good.

“I’m not gonna leave this bed, ever, if we just…keep doing this,” Roy was mumbling, deliriously, “Hell, I’m not gonna leave that junk of your ever.”

“Then keep it, Roy,” Jason replied with a laughter, curt yet beautiful, stained in a way that made Roy’s skin seared and crawled, “It’s all yours.”

“Oh, shit,” he cried out.

No matter how he wished he could just keep it up for possibly a year, he wasn’t going to last.

Whenever Jason pressed, he pressed with his whole body, as though he was trying to leave a body-print on Roy, as though he even needed to. He growled into Roy’s skin, stay completely still for a second before he drew back again, shifted his legs quickly and yanked Roy by his waist.

Next second, Roy was upward, sitting with Jason face to face; the cock inside him hadn’t drawn out entirely, he landed back on it as heavy as the gravity could pull.

“Shit,” they cursed loudly at the same time, clutched tight onto each other.

Roy sat with him for a brief moment, then a hand held on his cock, barely a stroke and the orgasm was surging up. He gasped hard and tackled Jason in crazed, until Jason kicked his legs out, toppled backward and landed on his back, head slightly hanging out on the edge of the bed.

Lifted himself for the last time, Roy slammed back onto his partner from above, Jason arched his neck and let out the most wonderful sound; and he was coming, and Jason was coming, there’s no way each one of them could be set back.

The door opened.

“Roy, I want to talk to you,” someone walked into his quarter and said abruptly, “I know it probably is a sore subject, but I think it’s better if you could talk to me about Red…Hood.”

Roy tossed up his head in horror, while his body was still emptying itself. Lilith stared at him with widened eyes, looked exactly as mortified as him.

“Oh-I-am-so-sorry--”

“Oh fuck,” Jason grumbled, and Roy screamed, “Get out!”

A muffled apology, then Lilith fled as fast as she could.

Roy buried his face into the shoulder blade below.

“So much for the grand final.”

“Yeah,” Jason replied in a grumble.

“What do you say we take a break then redo it.”

A hand brushing his hair tenderly, Roy chuckled into his shoulder.

“Well, you say the word and I’m all in, partner.”

His face was guided up by a gentle hand. Jason kissed him gently.

 

***

 

“Sorry,” he told the kid, “You’re on your own.”

Another swung, and the force made his head threw aside. The teenager coughed, glared back at him instead of his attacker once he had caught his breath. “There must be something you could do,” he snarled, blue eyes bulged in pain and burning in rage.

“Sorry,” he said it again, like he always did. There’s nothing he could do for him. He dropped down his gaze and weighed the gun on his hand. Instantly, the kid caught the small movement.

“Kill him,” the suffering teen gritted out, breath hitched a little from expectation and hope, or possibly just because of the beating.

“I could do that,” he said with a vague nod. “But it wouldn’t change anything.”

“Why the hell not,” the kid spited and crawled up on the ground a little. “You could save me, isn’t it the whole point?”

“But you couldn’t be saved, kid, you’re dead.” he shook his head. “Only I’m not.”

The kid glared at him incredulously. “What are you saying,” the words were trembling, boiled up in intense heat, “you’re going to just forget about me?”

“No,” he puffed out a soft snort.

There’s no way he could do that. He couldn’t wipe any of it out of his memory, and if he did, he just wouldn’t be the same. “No, I won’t forget you. But I can’t spend time with you anymore, I’m needed somewhere.”

“Oooh, that’s new,” with a curious expression on his chalky white face, the clown turned to leer at him, braced the crowbar on the ground and leaned onto it.

He shot a cold glance at the clown, before he turned his eyes back to the kid. The kid was saying, “You’re Just gonna toss me away? Toss me like a piece of scum and replaced me just as easily as _him_?”

Blue eyes glared at Jason for a second, then the kid twisted his blood dripping lips and let out a toxin snort.

“You know that’s what you are, a **_street scum_** , who _has nothing and **means** nothing_. The rich guy knew it, that’s why he forgot about your ass and find another replacement, and the woman who gave birth to you knew it, that’s why she traded you up to a psychopathic killer. I’m _all_ you have since our stepmom dropped dead on the street, and you couldn’t even be smart enough to keep **_me_** alive.”

No doubt that stung, but he didn’t deflated, not this time.

“Maybe you were, but someone thinks I’m better than this. Someone believes I’m better and stronger than just a street scum, or a twisted production of a clown. An idiot, sure, but also a genius. The most best thing I could ever hope for. So you should understand why I’m gonna take his opinion on this,” he told the kid in a soft tone.

All these times he wanted to do something about it, but only ended up stuck into it, been dragged into the same nightmare again and again.

These dreams were always the same, always the same scene, although his reaction were various; sometimes he had frozen in there, watched in hatred and terror as the clown took away his own life, sometimes he had blown off the clown’s head, but the kid was still dying.

No matter how sweet a good revenge was, it couldn’t take away any of the pain, and he could never save himself from the past.

“I couldn’t do shit about you, kid,” Jason said, “But I have to do what’s best for myself, for the people I love.”

Turned away from the kid and the clown, Jason walked out of the warehouse.

 

 

 


End file.
